


I don't play around that often (when I do I'm a freak)

by figureskaterbitty (gabsgen)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Gay Club, M/M, i am never writing this ship again please don't ask for it, implied parzimbits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2016-12-16
Packaged: 2018-09-08 21:50:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8864035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabsgen/pseuds/figureskaterbitty
Summary: Swawesome Santa gift for alpha_exodus!
Prompt: With bittyparse specifically, I really enjoy their snarky humor and the sexually charged part of their relationship. So something a lil ~sexy (or a lot hahaha) would be awesome :D (them in a club?? dancing maybe?? bitty in short shorts?? kent SO gone on him??)





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alpha_exodus](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpha_exodus/gifts).



> Beta'd by my amazing qp [lyricaluscinia](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lyricaluscinia) she's such a trooper she doesn't even read omgcp I love you dear (ノ゜ω゜)ノ
> 
> As some extra fun, her reaction to reading the first couple hundred words for the first time:  
> oh my f foodndbjd  
> IM C RYGB WHY IS HE DRESSED LIKE THAT
> 
> Hey, alpha_exodus! So this was supposed to be a comic, but...technical difficulties happened so it got turned into a fic. (So sorry!) I hope you still like it, though! Have a Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!
> 
> Title from Flesh by Simon Curtis

The bar was small but busy and, most importantly, discreet. It was one of the very few gay bars Kent trusted. Sure, he planned on coming out _eventually_ , but now wasn't the time. He figured he’d win the Aces a few more Stanley Cups first, really prove to the NHL and the world that his sexuality had no effect on his playing.

Taking off his snapback and dropping it on the bar counter, Kent ordered another beer. He hadn't planned on picking up tonight, but hey, if it happened he wasn't going to complain. He could use the stress relief, to be honest. He sighed as the bottle was placed in front of him. Drinking wasn't even all that fun anymore; he rarely went out with the team outside of celebrations, so he didn't really have anyone to share the time with.

Kent's eyes glanced to the side of their own volition as he took a drink. He almost choked at the sight that met his peripheral vision. His breath caught. Holy. Shit.

Golden skin. Long, defined legs. A round, plump ass encased in the shortest and tightest shorts he had ever seen on another man. Defined abs on an exposed lower torso. An unbuttoned red flannel tied in front to form a crop top, with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Blond hair and brown eyes and...oh shit, he knew that face. It was fucking Bittle.

Kent groaned. It was just his luck that he’d run into one of Zimms’s teammates here. And of course it had to be the cute blond. The universe was throwing all kinds of shit at Kent tonight, wasn't it? It was just typical that he couldn't enjoy a peaceful night in the bar and instead had his past mistakes thrown in his face.

That was Las Vegas for you.

Kent paused. Wait, that's right, he was in Vegas. So, what the fuck was Bittle doing there? The Aces were playing the Falconers the next day...that had to be it. There was no other explanation.

He huffed and turned back to his drink. It was really none of his business; Zimms had made that _abundantly_ clear last time Kent had visited the hockey house.

And yet, he couldn't keep his eyes away. Who gave Bittle the right to dress like that, and look so fucking hot doing it? No, of course Kent wasn't jealous; that's absurd. What did he have to be jealous of?

The next time Kent unintentionally looked Bittle’s way, the winger was looking back with a raised eyebrow and an amused smirk. He tilted his head in a clear invitation as he took a sip of his mai tai, challenge made.

Kent Parson never turned down a challenge, especially not from this little shit.

Beer long forgotten and abandoned, Kent strode along the counter until he reached the slightly shorter blond, already entranced by the brown eyes looking up through thick lashes. He let his eyes sweep the other man from head to toe, not even attempting to hide the look. Bittle was the one who had all but called him out, after all.

“Bittle,” he drawled, eyebrow raising and smirk forming on his face.

Bittle leaned back against the counter, arms spread out on either side and drink dangling artfully from one hand. “Parson,” he replied.

“So what the hell are you here for?” Kent began. “I thought you had something going on with Zimms?”

Bittle’s eyebrows hitched in surprise before he caught himself. Raising one of them, he replied in his most southern drawl, “Why, whatever made you think that, Mr. Parson?”

Kent smirked. “Please. The way you two were hanging off of each other at that kegster?” He leaned forward to whisper the rest in Bittle’s ear. “Tell me you're not fucking, Bittle.”

Bittle hummed as his glass came to his lips. “Well I can say that we weren’t at the time…”

“And now?”

“I'm afraid that's classified information.”

Kent guffawed. “So in other words, you are. Still, that still doesn't answer the question of why you're here. You cheating or something?”

_That_ definitely got a reaction. Bittle's eyes darkened and narrowed, and Kent was pretty sure the flush on his cheeks wasn't from the alcohol.

“Excuse _you_ , Parson. I am a southern gentleman, thank you very much. I don't take kindly to the idea that I'm cheating on Jack.” Bittle pursed his lips, and took another swig in an obvious attempt to calm himself down.

Kent pointedly looked around the bar, a smug as fuck look on his face. “Still waiting for an answer, you know.”

Bittle sighed in a put-upon way. “I'm not even sure I want to tell you now, in all honesty. But, I did promise Jack...and I _keep_ my promises.” He tapped his lips with a single finger before continuing on. “Let's say Jack was curious about whether or not certain... _habits_ of yours were still at play. And if they _were_ , he wanted me to...make an offer on behalf of the two of us.”

Kent crossed his arms and settled his weight. “You got me. I'm intrigued. What's this so-called ‘offer'?”

In response, Bittle smirked and batted his eyelashes. He made a show of plucking the cherry from atop his mai tai and popping the whole thing, stem and all, into his mouth. A minute or so later, his eyes never leaving Kent’s, he poked his tongue out, cherry stem tied in a neat little knot.

Kent's eyes widened in surprise. This was...not what he had been expecting. (Really though, he should have seen it coming).

Bittle disposed of the stem and downed the last of his drink before pushing off of the counter. Lifting onto his toes as he sauntered past, he whispered huskily into Kent's ear, “You have Jack's number.”

And Bittle was off, dancing through the crowd as he made his way towards the exit. There was one more glance sent Kent's way before he was lost to view, amused smirk covering his face.

Kent considered. He pulled out his phone and started a new message to a number he was suddenly glad he hadn't deleted.


End file.
